Warlock Academy
T.C. Orton
Magic was real and William had a chance to spend the next three years studying it. He couldn’t let that opportunity pass him by, even if it meant giving up on what was surely a carved out future for the overachieving eighteen-year-old.
His fingers clutched the crumpled letter in his pocket as he began to tug, fighting the tightness of his jacket to free himself so that he could see which hall he belonged to. He yanked so hard that his hand flew back, ricocheting outwards until it met the person next to him.
“Sorry!” He called out in a panic, turning to apologize so fast that his glasses flung from his face and vanished into the crowd. “Dammit!” He added in a hiss of frustration, quickly tucking his wavy brown hair back behind his ears before it sprung free.
He was hardly the most graceful eighteen-year-old to have ever existed, nor did he do well in large groups that rushed around him. William preferred the quiet life, often opting for a cup of tea as he tucked himself into a blanket with his favorite book spread across his palm. He thought that Warlock Academy would be full of intellects like himself who would rather ingest wisdom than booze.
He was wrong.
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